


statement of mateo

by aiineslin



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Statement Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23255947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aiineslin/pseuds/aiineslin
Summary: in which a hunt for an accountant takes place in the mountains of [redacted].
Kudos: 5





	statement of mateo

**Author's Note:**

> this is what happens when i watch narcos and listen to the magnus archives at the same time

… this isn’t going to get back to the cops, right?

Okay.

Ahem.

This happened two decades ago. 

I’m a freelancer who specialises in obstruction removal. That’s corporate-speak for me being a hired killer. 

Why not use the term assassin? That’s because there’s nothing fancy about shooting a tied man’s brains out.

There was this struggle for power between multiple organisations back then. Most of us in the business made some money off it. But all good things come to an end. After a while, it became obvious that the alliance between A and B was winning. And when they did win, they decided to wrap things up by taking out what remained of Organisation C’s officers 

We didn’t do things by halves those days. 

A led the search. There were six of us, four were from A, and two of us were freelancers - me and Raoul. We were looking for a Mr Ortega, who had been Organisation C’s main accountant. 

The lead was a small Asian woman. Had these light brown eyes. Smelt like lavender. That was the thing that stuck with me. She smelt nice.

Me and Raoul were the ones who traced Ortega to the mountains; he was hiding there, holed up with eight mercs. 

Funny thing, though. When we reached his house, all was quiet. We scouted the perimeter. Checked it out. We were ready for a firefight, or at least - a fistfight before we went in. But there was nothing. Nothing and nobody. 

The hair was rising on my neck by then. Something was wrong, very wrong with this entire picture. Ortega may have been turned on by almost everybody, but me and Raoul found definite proof that he had bought people to hole up with him. 

But here’s the funny thing. I remember it to this day. 

The lead looked pleased. And when we made the final lap around the house and realised that yeah, there was fuck-all at the perimeter, she was the one who made the call to go in through the front gates.

And she stood there, bold as brass, cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “I see you. I see  _ you _ , you ugly faceless fuck.”

All was silent for a bit. 

And then - and then. Someone screamed back.

I say screamed, but what I meant was - … What I meant was, it was a  _ scream _ , but you had to understand, it sounded like it was distorted. It sounded warped. It wasn’t a human voice. It wasn’t an  _ animal _ voice. Because animals don’t talk, right?

“C̵͊͜͠͝O̶̙̝̬̗͌͗̎͋M̷̮̅͑͘E̶̲͕̽̓ ̴̳̟͎̃̐̓G̵͈̹͋̿̑͠E̴̳̮T̶͎̝̭̪̍ ̶̹̭͍̗͛̅̔M̶̛̛̲̼̭̈́͛͜Ȅ̸̡̫̗͙̆̈́ ̸̧̮̮͉̔̀͑T̷͕̈́̒͜Ḧ̴̨̼̫́̋͝E̵̡̬̟̱̓̊̂̏N̵̪͑̿̔͜”

“Ortega,” Raoul said. I looked around at him. He was sweating, even though it was a really nice, windy night. 

“Ortega?”

“That’s Ortega’s voice. I met him at a few meetings before; I recognise his voice.” He sounded like he was going to cry. “Mateo. What the fuck is that?”

I turned my head. 

I’ll be honest here. I’ve seen a lot of fucked up shit in my time, but whatever that thing was - whatever that too-tall, too-stretchy  _ thing _ that wore Ortega’s skin like a bad shirt, that shrieking thing that came running out of the house… that one took the cake.

It barrelled at us, and the lead shoved me out of its way- I flew a few feet and bounced off a car, but I’d take a few bruises over my head getting swiped right off, which was what happened to poor Raoul.

His head flew past me. That was the second most fucked-up thing I’ve seen in my life. 

“Fuck,” I remember saying, staggering to my feet, a hand to my ribs.

In front of me, I saw one of the men - Pablo, his name was - crawling to his feet. The thing had taken a swipe at him as well, and Pablo’s face looked strange. His nose was in the wrong position. It was too far to the left. It was so far to the left it almost fell off his face, and his cheekbone was all wrong. As I watched, he began pushing his nose back into the centre of his face, groaning all the way.

Legs in front of me. A hand helping me up. It was the lead. 

“You okay?”

“No,” I had said. “No, I’m fucking not. What the fuck was that.”

“Ortega.” She looked very pleased. “Good job! You’ve found him.”

“That isn’t Ortega,” I croaked. My ribs hurt like fuck. “That’s not. What’s Pablo doing to his face.”

“Oops,” Pablo said and turned his back to me hastily. He had appeared to be trying to pinch the bridge of his nose straight.

“We have to go,” I said. My head was spinning. I was asked to kill a man. A man, who would ideally be sitting tied to a chair. “That’s a fucking monster. That is not Ortega.”

And then she said, “No.” Looked at me. Her eyes weren’t brown now. They were straight up fucking animal yellow. “The hunt doesn’t end until I find Ortega.” Barked out a laugh. “Not-Ortega.”

Then she reaches out and pats my shoulder, almost sympathetically. “It’s okay if you want to leave, though. I understand. However, I will have to adjust your pay according to the actual work delivered.”

I somehow managed to say. “It’s okay. I’m happy to adjust.”

Squeezed my shoulder. Her fingers are. Too thick. Too long. Too sharp. Claws. When I finally took my jacket off in my hotel room, the shoulder was shredded beyond repair. She had taken care not to scratch the flesh and bone beneath, and honestly, I’m fucking thankful for that. “It was very nice to work with you. You are a brave man, and I hope we get the opportunity to collaborate again.”

Turned around. Looked at her team. In the darkness, in what little light we had, the eyes of her team were shiny and bright, reflecting the light off them. “Ready?” Her words came out strange too. I think there were too many teeth in her mouth by then.

“Ready,” came the answering howl.

And they loped off into the night. I think they started becoming a bit bigger the more distance they put between me and them. I don’t know. I got the fuck out, took poor Raoul’s car down the mountains. I didn’t want to look. 

She fulfilled her promise. I took a phone call a few days later. They re-confirmed my bank details with me, and I received my adjusted pay. Did I try to argue with them about it? Nah. I’m brave, but I’m not stupid. And besides, it was a very reasonable adjustment.

Did I work with them again?

Well.

Yes. Jobs are far and few between - the economy is  _ always _ bad, somehow or other. And she was a lead that took care of her team, freelancers or salaried workers alike. 

Sometimes, when I look at her, it feels like the last two decades did not happen at all. 

She invited me to the mountains this weekend. 

Said that in honour of my long service, we were going to go on one last hunt together.

I must admit, I’m quite looking forward to it. 


End file.
